


In the Middle

by surveycorpsjean



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Captain Tsukishima, Lots of Cuddling, M/M, Sexual Content, Vice Captain Hinata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8440450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surveycorpsjean/pseuds/surveycorpsjean
Summary: When you love someone, you meet in the middle. Time and time again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> look,,,,,,, this is just a guilty pleasure 4 me sorry

Tsukishima has never been one for dating, really.

He has a type, it’s fine. There’s a minuet list of people he’s ever been interested in. A very specific bodytype, a very specific personality. None, preferably, because people are annoying as fuck.

But Hinata doesn’t fit in that box. In Tsukishima’s safety zone.

Hinata has taken the word beautiful, chewed it up, and spat it out into something new. Now in their third year, he owns the word. His name is written all over it, frontwards, backwards, upside down and sideways.

In their first year he was annoying. Too full of hope and rookie power. A moron, but cute.

Ah, but now they’re older. Now, Hinata holds himself with a confidence unparalleled; Hinata is his  _vice captain,_ for fucks sake. Granted, it’s only been a month since school started, but Hinata has already fallen into the role of a  _senpai_ incredibly fast.

Their ‘relationship’ is a strange one, in all honesty. Tsukishima is no longer disgusted to call him a friend – Kageyama included, annoyingly enough. The four of them are the only ones left from the original Karasuno team; they know each other’s buttons. They know boundary lines and the ever-increasing stamina bar. Tsukishima has given up fighting the whole friendship thing.

But goddammit,  _Hinata._

He’s touchy, he’s bright. He’s literally the sun, in every sense of the word. It used to burn Tsukishima – it used to make his lips curl behind his teeth and his ears ring – but now it’s just warm. Everything. Everything connected to Hinata is warm.

Hinata is a needy human being. He thrives off of friendship, off of strength. Off of human touch – in which he is incredibly consistent about. Pats on the back, side hugs and smothering the first years.

He climbs Tsukishima like a damn tree, and annoyingly enough, Tsukishima is  _used to it._

The opposing teammate will stare, and stare.

 _“What?”_  He’ll snap, as Hinata climbs up on his shoulders and perches there.

Tsukishima sits in class, pen tapping his desk, head in his free hand. His mind is far above the classroom, up in the clouds, higher than equations and graphs.

It’s something he thinks about all the time – this. How he’s gotten  _here,_ of all places.

How, in their second year, Hinata would follow him home from school. How, after the spring tournament, he’d climbed up on Tsukishima’s shoulders and hollered. How Tsukishima would burn him CD's on the weekends – how Hinata would win him pointless stuffed animals at every claw machine they passed, because goddammit, Hinata is unbelievably skilled at claw machines.

Hmm. Those stuffed animals are still sitting in a corner of Tsukishima’s room. He wishes he had the heart to throw them away.

“Tsukishima?” The teacher calls, “Can you answer the question on the board?”

Tsukishima looks up lazily, and stops tapping his pen. He quickly skims over the math in his head, ignoring the blatant stares from his peers.

“It’s zero, sensei.” Tsukishima blinks, leaning his head back in his hand. He gets satisfaction from the look on the teacher’s face. She knows he wasn’t paying attention. Tsukishima smirks.

When she goes back to talking, Tsukishima looks back across the room, to Hinata, who’s half asleep in his chair. His head keeps nodding off, hand occasionally twitching on his lap.

 _Cute,_ Tsukishima thinks, and flicks his thumb against the clip of his pencil.

Hinata is like a fungus. He grows on you, whether you like it or not. To think Tsukishima used to hate him, way back when they were fifteen. Young and stupid they were. They’re still young and stupid.

Tsukishima will never forget the day Hinata showed up on his doorstep, three months ago, in the middle of break.

His cheeks were as bright as his hair, lips chewed and swollen, tugged between his teeth. They’d spent all their free time practicing, setting spikes, doing dives. Tsukishima did it willingly – to the point where he questioned his own sanity.

But Hinata had stood at his doorstep, still sweaty, still flushed. He flopped a bouquet of half-crushed flowers against Tsukishima’s chest and barked  _Please go out with me!!!_

It was unbelievable. Their height difference is nearly an entire foot, but Hinata had still stood there, shoulders squared, eyes set ablaze; Tsukishima had laughed. Not to be mean, really, but because Hinata is truly the white to his black. The yin and yang, opposites attract, sun and moon.

Hinata doesn’t play the games Tsukishima does. He doesn’t well up feelings. He doesn’t keep things in. It’s admirable, so Tsukishima laughed.

Hinata’s eyes had watered, and his lips had pulled into a bark, “Don’t laugh at me! Just say no!”

Tsukishima wiped his eyes, still laughing, adjusting his glasses back on his nose. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m nervous.”

Hinata’s thin little eyebrows pushed together, “Nervous?”

Tsukishima took the flowers, picking off a dead petal or two, “I’ve liked you much longer than you’ve liked me.”

And Hinata had beamed, eyes sparking, “Is that a challenge?!”

Here, in the present, Tsukishima still can’t look away from him. His eyes are blurred with sleep, orange hair messy, falling around his ears. Later he’ll ask Tsukishima to tutor him, in which Tsukishima will be the biggest damn hypocrite, teasing,  _you should have paid attention in class._

Ah, but Tsukishima might spare him this time. They’ve been fighting, tooth and nail, spit and blood, to make it to the fall tournament.

Because this is their last together.

That makes an ugly feeling settle in Tsukishima’s gut, so he ignores it. Instead he taps his pencil, and stares at Hinata until he meets his eye. Tsukishima’s desire to kiss him is overwhelming, but it’s no surprise. Nothing surprises him anymore.

 

* * *

 

“Woah there,” Hinata laughs. “Careful.”

Their youngest member, Urari, rocks back on his heels. “S-Sorry.”

“Don’t worry! Just try again!”

Tsukishima watches, carefully, from the side of the gym. Ukai hovers next to him, probably thinking the same thing he is – they’re not ready.

But Hinata. Hinata has unbelievable faith in this team, so. Tsukishima will do what he can.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi rocks back on his heels, ball under his arm. “Wanna’ hit some serves?”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima sways away from Ukai. “Set the second years up for some receives.”

“Gotcha’,” Yamaguchi nods, and patters off across the room, to gather the sheep.

Tsukishima looks to the first years, who are hovering around Hinata like the celestial planets. They look at him with such wide, shimmery eyes.

Truly, a good vice-captain.

Who knew they’d be here? Tsukishima sure as hell never banked on being a captain. But things need balance.

Where Daichi was hard, Suga was soft.

When Ennoshita was strict, Tanaka was loose.

While Tsukishima is rough, Hinata is smooth.

Hinata is the heart of Karasuno. For three years, he has been. The fire, the soul, everything that burns hot and wild about a band of crows. Tsukishima, the mind. They’re a fine enough pair.

Plus, Yamaguchi hates giving orders, and Kageyama couldn’t encourage a tooth brush, so there was really no other option.

Tsukishima steals a ball from the basket, spinning it in his hands, still watching Hinata. Kageyama approaches him with a bark more playful, and less mean like it used to be years ago. Tsukishima can’t hear what they’re saying, but Hinata laughs, so it’s fine. Tsukishima tries not to care – but he’s oddly possessive. He’s never been possessive of anything, really, especially people, but there’s something about Hinata. They’ve both become greedy.

Tsukishima hits the ball with the palm of his hand. It makes the sound he’s looking for – what he’s learned is a good, solid hit. A second year receives it, and Tsukishima hits it back once more. They’ll probably run through a practice game or two – break into five on five games, or something. Tsukishima hasn’t decided yet – but the gym is full of idle chatter, and the sound of volleyballs smacking the floor.

Urari, that first year, is making Tsukishima nervous. Tsukishima sees him out of his peripheral; he’s so goddamn big. He’s not too dissimilar to Ushijima, and you know the bad taste  _that_ leaves in Tsukishima’s mouth.

Urari just has so much fucking power. Well, there’s no such thing as  _too much,_ but it’s dangerous. It’s wild. Urari’s spikes hit hard, but they hit  _everywhere._

No control, really. Tsukishima is a control freak, so, Urari stresses him out.

 _We’ll whip him into shape!_ Hinata had cooed, against his neck,   _Stop worrying~_

Tsukishima’s upper lip twitches as he hits another ball, this time to their new libero. He receives it easily, of course – but there’s another smack from across the gym.

Urari hits a ball, loud and hard, with way too much power. Tsukishima sees it all – the way the energy ripples around the ball – the way it soars right across the gym. There’s no time – maybe a millisecond – but Tsukishima panics.

Tsukishima drops the ball in his hands, and his voice yells before it hits the floor,  _“Shouyou!”_

Which was a stupid decision, in hindsight, because Hinata turns around, looking right at him.  Kageyama sees it coming just a little too late – he grips Hinata by the front of his shirt to pull him away, but that damn first year is just too strong. The ball cracks right into Hinata’s nose, and Tsukishima feels his gut sink to his feet.

Hinata has taken  _hundreds_ of balls to the face, and it’s generally pretty funny – but that spike was  _hard._ Tsukishima heard the sound. Loud, like a cat of nine tails against a chalkboard.

Hinata’s head ricochets with the impact, and his skull smacks against the ground, sending the gym into a ringing silence.

Tsukishima feels his own breath rush out hard, lungs emptying, heartrate skyrocketing.

Ukai and Takeda rise to their feet, “Hinata!”

Tsukishima hesitates for a full second, before he’s sprinting across the gym, and sliding onto his kneepads.

“Ahhhhhh,” Hinata whines, hands flying up to his nose. There’s blood everywhere- “It huuuurts.”

“Don’t move,” Tsukishima places a hand on his chest. Ah, what’s the first step of first aid? The neck, right? But god, there’s so much blood coming out of his nose-

“Haaa, nu, h’ hurts-“ Hinata squirms.

Kageyama bites, “Idiot! He said don’t move!”

“I’m so sorry!” Urari comes sprinting, “I’m so, so-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Ukai kneels by Hinata’s head. “Hinata, you okay?”

“Yeh,” Hinata covers his nose, as blood drips across his lip, and around his cheek. “Haaa, Urari, nish shpike.”

Ukai begins a typical patdown, feeling around Hinata’s head, and his neck. Good. Tsukishima’s brain isn’t fucking cooperating. He’s more fixated on all the blood, and the way Hinata squirms in pain. Tsukishima sees it in his eyes – but Hinata smiles for the underclassmen.

Yamaguchi waves around a wad of paper towels, as Hinata is eventually helped up to his feet. “Here!”

“Hanks Hahashi!” Hinata takes them, blurrily.

“I’ll take him to the nurse,” Tsukishima offers. He braces an arm under Hinata’s armpit to hold him steady.

“Are you sure?” Takeda stares, “We can have Ozu or Urari-“

“I’m taking him.” Tsukishima corrects, with a hard bite, and Takeda shakily nods.

Urari is mumbling a nervous mantra, a constant  _I’m so sorry I’m so so sorry, I'm so-_

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah dude, total accident.”

“M’ shrs aboht hat shpike,” Hinata grins. He’s pinching his nose, as he climbs onto Tsukishima’s back with one hand. “Ahmazin.”

“T-Thank you, Hinata-senpai,” Urari flushes. Cute, but Tsukishima is more annoyed than anything – so he stands up, hands beneath Hinata’s thighs.

Tsukishima says as he walks, “Hold on,” leaving all the chaos behind them. When the gym doors close, it’s silent. Just the quiet, desolated hallways, and the occasional bird.

“Hrrrrgh,” Hinata whines into the paper towel. “H hurts.”

“I’m sure.” Tsukishima squeezes his thighs, “You okay?”

Hinata wipes his nose, talking a little better, “Y-Yeah. Urari is…so strong, ha.”

“Moron,” Tsukishima spits. “He has no control.”

Hinata makes a noise of disagreement, but says nothing. He’s probably going to bleed on Tsukishima’s shirt, but whatever. A small price to pay.

Hinata’s free arm is around his neck, his small hand twisted in the front of Tsukishima's collar. His body heat is warm, and Tsukishima just wants to kiss him - but he carries Hinata in silence, down the stairs, around the courtyard, and into the building.

There’s a slow sniff, before a small, swallowed sob.

Tsukishima stops walking.

Gut twisting, he turns his head, “Shouyou?”

“Sorry. It really hurts.”

“Your head?”

“My nose. And my head.”

Tsukishima’s heart squeezes, “Want down?”

“No, no, let’s go.”

Tsukishima shifts his weight. Considers his options. Squeezes Hinata’s thighs, and picks up the pace.

“You wanted to cry.”

“So bad!” Hinata laughs, while crying, “But I c-couldn’t let the kouhai see me cry! W-What kind of s-senpai would that make me?”

“One that just broke his nose.”

“Oh god, do you think it’s broken?!”

“Probably not,” Tsukishima lies. He nudges open the door to the nurse’s office, minding Hinata’s head in the doorway. He’s slow to set him down – soft, and careful, on the small hospital bed.

Hinata looks awful. Pretty pitiful, in Tsukishima’s opinion. Hand hovering over his nose, eyebrows scrunched up in pain. Tsukishima glances quickly around the room – the nurse is still busy wrapping some kid’s ankle from the tennis club, so Tsukishima smooths his hand through Hinata’s hair, pushing back his bangs, and tugging gently on the baby hairs of his neck. Hinata looks up through his eyelashes, and smiles horribly bright around the blood.

When she turns around, the nurse will says  _no, it’s not broken,_ but Tsukishima will carry Hinata back anyways.

 

* * *

 

They were nervous about PDA, at first. What will people think? Tsukishima never cared, really – he was gentle for Hinata’s sake.

But Hinata is horrible at keeping secrets – so the handholding, the hugs – they just became routine. The kisses are the funniest; Tsukishima will sometimes sweep down and steal one, like a craft raccoon – and Hinata will chase him down like an old man with a cane.

But Hinata is slick – he’ll jump high – the  _perfect height –_ and peck Tsukishima quickly before gravity pulls him down. Sometimes Hinata will miss; he’ll kiss his chin, his cheek, and even his ear, when Hinata’s aim is especially bad.

 _“I meant to do that!”_ Hinata will argue, but Tsukishima will just cover his ear and laugh, because really, it’s better than blushing. It's funny, but not for the reasons you think; it’s more fun to parade around in front of Karasuno. To sneak his hand in Hinata’s back pocket and practically vibrate  _mine._

When they’re bored, on the bus, they’ll nab a pen and doodle on each other’s arms. They don’t always sit together, but when they do, they walk off with each other’s names written up and down their forearms.

Tsukishima’s wrist will wrap around in Kanji,  _sun, sun, sun-_

And on Hinata’s fingers? The English spelling of   _moon, moon, moon-_

“Weirdos,” Kageyama calls, popping up from the seat ahead, turned around with his chin perched on his forearms.

Hinata jumps, the pen sliding down Tsukishima’s palm on accident.

“You need a bell,” Tsukishima says, without looking.

Kageyama rolls his eyes, “You need a leash.” 

 Rather than huffing angrily like Tsukishima, Hinata just makes a larger display of snuggling into Tsukishima’s lap, head against his shoulder, feet jostling with every bump of the bus.

“God, who taught you to clap back?” Tsukishima stares, “Peanuts? Garfeild? The Far Side?”

“Your mom, actually.”

“Wow, just go ahead and prove my point further, why don’t you.”

“Go awayyy,” Hinata interrupts, shoving a hand in Kageyama’s face and pushing him aside. “This is a private viewing. Pay to enter.”

“We’re on a  _bus._ ”

“Yah.”

“With the  _team._ ”

“Mm,” Hinata pushes harder. “Go, go.”

Tsukishima can hear Yamaguchi laughing from behind them.

Kageyama fights him, “We’re headed to a practice game. Stop snuggling.”

“Never!” Hinata falls against Tsukishima’s chest with emphasis. Tsukishima makes a big show of lifting his knee, pressing Hinata even closer.

Kageyama flops back down on the seat, mumbling, “Fine, whatever.”

“We should get a PDA jar,” Yamaguchi offers.

“Shut up.” Tsukishima calls back. “I'll go broke." 

There’s laughter from the kouhai, but it’s fine. The tension on the bus is bad enough; if they’re nervous going into the match, they’ll surely lose.

But, you never know. Things are changing a lot these days.

Instead Tsukishima draws his hand up and down Hinata’s thigh, watching his ears slowly turn red. Hinata flips his head back to face him, smile wide, doing all kinds of things to Tsukishima’s insides. Hinata’s body weight is warm, tiny hands seeking out Tsukishima's own.

Hinata looks down, comparing the size of their fingers, like he always does. The difference is unsurprising, but still oddly cute. Hinata’s teeny little hands can spike balls faster than sound – but these fingers are here, drawing invisible lines up and down Tsukishima’s wrists, dragging hearts on his palm and loving circles on his forearms.

“I hate you,” Tsukishima lies, above a whisper.

Hinata jokes, “Hate ya’ too,” and kisses him.     

 

* * *

 

It’s getting colder, as time ticks on. Tsukishima’s bed was made, but now destroyed, since Hinata got here. Not for the usual reasons, but really, because they’ve been lazily rolling around in the sheets ever since they got home from school. Toes are wiggled together, Hinata’s nose in Tsukishima's neck. Tsukishima rests his hand against Hinata’s hip, and occasionally trails down his ass, and back.

“We have homework,” Tsukishima tells him, with a yawn.

“Ughhh, but it’s cold out there.”

“That is true.”

“And math is hard.”

“Less true.”

“It’s better here.”

“True-er.”

“What are you even saying?” Hinata laughs, propping himself up on his elbows, staring down at Tsukishima’s glasses-less face.

“Dunno’.” Tsukishima mumbles, peeping open an eye, “I’m tired.”

Hinata flops back down, “Me too. Practice was so brutal today.”

“Well we lost that practice patch pretty hard,” Tsukishima sighs. “We have to be ready for the tournament.”

Hinata has this proud little smile he gives – like  _ah, it’s so nice to see you care –_ which is weird? Because Tsukishima has cared for a long time, now.

Hinata gives a small shiver; he presses closer, sucking in a hard breath against Tsukishima’s neck. The notion is nice, stirring something in Tsukishima’s stomach. “Cold.”

“Put on pants.”

“ _I'd rather die_ _._ ”

Tsukishima jokingly pulls back the elastic of Hinata’s boxer briefs, snapping them back with a crack. Hinata yelps, “Kei!”

“Heh,” Tsukishima noses against his cheek. “What’s with your personal vendetta against pants?”

“They’re constricting,” Hinata argues. “Stuffy. Very unnecessary.”

“I’m sure I have a few counterarguments against that.”

“Yeah?”

“First of all, I’m perfectly warm.” Tsukishima lifts his knee, brushing the flannel pajama fabric against Hinata’s bare thigh.

“Right.”

“Also,”  Tsukishima reaches down, groping him through the thin fabric, “it’s easier to do this.” He rolls his thumb into Hinata’s crotch, “Dangerous, you see.” 

“Ah,” Hinata exhales. He lifts his head up, meeting Tsukishima’s eye, “Only a plus, in my book.” 

“Mm,” Tsukishima lazily rolls his hands back around to Hinata’s ass, where they belong. Damn, it’s such a perky ass. “Are we going out this weekend?”

“You keep changing the subject,” Hinata giggles. “You really are tired.”

“Not really,” Tsukishima yawns, drawing his forefinger up to Hinata’s back dimples. “Answer my question, doofus.”

“If you want to, yeah, definitely.”

“You have anywhere in mind?”

“I wanna’ go to Tokyo.” Hinata meets his eye, “Too far?”

“No,” Tsukishima drags his finger down between Hinata’s ass cheeks, “We’ll go wherever you want.”

“Hehehe,” Hinata squirms closer, “look at you. So soft, now.”

“You want me to say no?” Tsukishima rubs his finger against Hinata’s hole, through his briefs. “Fine, no. Tokyo is too far.”

“Ahh!” Hinata rolls his hips back, “Nooo, that’s not what I meant.”

“Use your words then,” Tsukishima teases, leaning just a little bit closer to speak against Hinata’s lips. He grabs a handful of his ass, spreading him lewdly, before rolling his hand down Hinata’s hip, propping his knee up against his own thigh.

“Teeease,” Hinata tips his head, slightly opening his mouth and kissing Tsukishima softly. “I like you soft.”

“Only for you, you know.” Tsukishima thumbs into his inner knee, hand sliding back up. He feels Hinata’s hands, now unwavering, rolling slowly beneath Tsukishima’s shirt. His fingers are a little cold, but they feel good against Tsukishima’s warm stomach. It’s weird, how comfortable they are. You think it’d be hard – all sharp edges and arguing.

But they’re not fifteen anymore. With Tsukishima’s passing birthday, they’re eighteen. The real world is knocking on their door; Tsukishima ignores it.

Instead he tips his head a little further, kissing Hinata with his eyes slightly open. He studies Hinata’s eyelashes – breathes him in and kisses until his lips tingle. Kissing is weird, and kissing Hinata is weirder. Looking at it, you’d think kissing would be kinda’ lame, but in reality, it makes heat rush up and down Tsukishima’s spine. Makes his heart beat a little faster.

Hinata used to be a really bad kisser, too. All tongue, no patience. It was endearing, in a sense. Tsukishima was very slow, methodical – but now, they meet in the middle.

Hinata’s hand brushes up his chest, running his fingers up and down his ribs. It feels good, so Tsukishima invoulentarily sighs. Their lips part, their lips press back together. Breath gushes out inbetween every kiss, and Hinata’s cheeks flush deeper with every passing second.

Hinata grinds down against his thigh, licks into his mouth, and suddenly Tsukishima is very awake. Yes, awake. Is the door locked? Probably. Mom’s not home anyways.

So Tsukishima brings a hand up into that wild red mess. He grips Hinata’s hair and pulls back hard, rolling up onto his elbows, and controlling the kiss where he wants it. Hinata’s little moan is incredibly satisfying – even more so the way Hinata kisses back. He’s not weak, in any sense of the word.  Tsukishima licks across his bottom lip, and Hinata steals his tongue and calls it his own. Hinata's fiery dominance will always make arousal flip flop in Tsukishima's gut. 

“This is your fault,” Hinata suddenly says, when they part to exhale.

“Ha?”

“ _I_ was just innocently snuggling,” Hinata’s hand is still moving, still working Tsukishima’s shirt up to his collar. His soft fingers leave sparks in their wake, trailing around any bare skin Hinata can find. The sheets have fallen to their hips, but it’s the least of Tsukishima’s worries.

“I used to think you were innocent,” Tsukishima jokes. He leans down to nip Hinata’s cheek, “I was mislead.”

“It’s my boyish charm.”

“Not in the slightest.” Tsukishima noses into his neck, trying to still the own need building in his blood. Everything in his gut screams  _take him,_ flip Hinata over and  _ravish_ all that he is – “You’re just a giant Trojan horse of sin.”

Hinata actually laughs at that one, “Hey! I got that joke.”

“The history tutoring worked, then.”

Hinata shifts beneath him, turning from his side, onto his back. With his newly freed hand, he brings it up to Tsukishima’s hair, playing with the strands, “I always pay attention when you tutor me.”

“Mmm,” Tsukishima works his way between Hinata’s legs, tugging off his briefs in the process, “I find that hard to believe.”

Hinata watches as the pineapple-printed boxer-briefs flop onto Tsukishima’s floor. By the time he looks back, Tsukishima is between his thighs, licking up his sternum and sucking soft bruises beneath his collar. Tsukishima spaces out each hickey precisely, a steady bite, before he sucks, rolling his tongue into Hinata's collarbone and sighing. Skin shouldn't taste good, but it does. Like Hinata. 

Hinata squirms, breath exhaling, “H-Hey. Come back.”

And Tsukishima does, slithering up, tipping his head and kissing Hinata once more. Over, and over, over and over and over and  _over-_

It’s endless. Long ones, soft ones, some searing and some cool. Tongues plunge hard, just to get the other to moan- teeth scrape against lips, and hands do everything but what they’re supposed to.

“Pants, pants,” Hinata repeats. “You’re still wearing pants.”

“Dun’ worry about it,” Tsukishima exhales. He squirms a hand between them, rolling his thumb up the underside of Hinata’s cock. He’s hard, to Tsukishima’s delight. “I want you to ride my face.”

“Ah, god, right now?” Hinata trembles.

“No, tomorrow. Yes right now.”

Hinata huffs, “I don’t have the energy to ride anything that’s not your dick.”

“I’m not fucking you,” Tsukishima slinks back, hands slowly rolling beneath the soft squish of Hinata’s thighs. That’s a lie, really, Hinata is all solid muscle. Still, he’s so  _soft._  

Hinata whines high in his throat, “Why not?”

Tsukishima spreads his thighs – Hinata is shamelessly naked. Honestly, he has nothing to be ashamed of. He’s just…stunning. So lean and beautiful. Tsukishima pushes Hinata’s knees to his chest, and stares between his legs. He’s still slightly stretched from yesterday, when they fucked behind the school bathrooms.

“Because we have a practice match with Nekoma, and Lev is going to give us a fucking migraine.”

“Ohh, come on,” Hinata keens. He squirms lewdly, working every muscle in his body, “Don’t fuck me too hard then. Just the tip, and all that.”

Tsukishima gives a snort, before he pushes Hinata’s flexibility even harder, folding him up like a Wetzels Pretzel. Tsukishima supports his lower back with his arms, wasting no time in rolling his tongue beneath Hinata’s balls, and down his ass. He's Christopher Columbus'ed all the skin here, but it's still so goddamn exciting. 

“Ah!” Hinata squirms, “Kei! Kei, don’t-“

He hums, tongue flicking once, twice, “You good?”

Hinata’s body  _jumps._ Tsukishima knows –  _knows_ he’s a little sex demon, with a libido made to challenge Tsukishima’s.

“Fast.” Hinata begs, “Be fast.”

“Why are you so needy today?” Tsukishima teases. He rolls his tongue flat once more, and feels a little happy knowing that Hinata showered so thoroughly after practice. So good for him, always.

Hinata's thighs tremble against his ears, and it's something Tsukishima has learned to love. Hinata taught him all about the wonders of eating ass - Tsukishima won't let him off that easy.

  So his tongue works a little faster, and Hinata groans a little louder.

“You just,” Hinata squirms, “drive me crazy.”

“Mm?”

“You need new fucking shorts,” Hinata curses. His voice is cracking, so Tsukishima actually works his tongue past the muscle, fingers digging bruises into those soft thighs.  _“Nnn!_ Ahh, t-the ones you have now are just  _f-fuck,_ so short, ah!”

Tsukishima stops, because he’s smiling too hard. “Interesting.”

Hinata squirms, “I would kill for your legs.”

“So you’ve said.” Tsukishima leans over, digging into the bedside drawer, because he's already lost this battle. 

“They’re so looooong,” Hinata stares. “And you’re still wearing  _pants goddamit Kei-“_

Tsukishima huffs a laugh, leaning back with the lube and condoms in his palm. He tosses them at Hinata’s chest, “Fine, hold on.”

“Eee!” Hinata perks up, grabbing the lube , and sitting up on his elbows. Tsukishima stands up off the bed, rolling off his clothes. It’s a little embarrassing, the way his cock springs to his stomach – but Tsukishima can’t really be blamed. His boyfriend is pretty damn cute.

Tsukishima worms back under the sheets. ‘Under’ is kind of a concept at this point, but whatever. Tsukishima is hard, and Hinata is sticking his own fingers up his ass, and his lips are so  _swollen -_ just, Tsukishima is almost beyond rational thinking.

He steals the bottle of lube, gripping Hinata’s left thigh and pushing it way up once more. His flexibility is amazing, Tsukishima will admit, but instead he focuses on circling his middle finger around Hinata’s rim, and pressing around the two small fingers already there.

Hinata makes all kinds of noises – good noises. Tsukishima makes a few too, because Hinata is  _sinful._ Just, utterly desirable. 

“Weird,” Tsukishima mumbles. He thrusts his finger in, and watches Hinata’s back arch, hands falling away. “Weird, weird, weird.” His own dick twitches, just watching.

“Now,  _ahhh,_ now is not the time for a s-sexuality crisis, K-Kei-“

“That’s not what I mean.” Tsukishima rolls in two fingers, then three. He scissors, he works, he does what he's done many times before. Hinata’s body takes so well, bends and twists so adorably. This is Tsukishima’s, he thinks.  _His, his his._

“What, then?”

“Us.” Tsukishima slows his pace, just to stop and smell the flowers. He stares at the flush that creeps down Hinata’s chest. “We’re weird.”

“Newsflash,” Hinata bites. He thrusts down against his fingers, always such a turn on, “No duh.”

“We’re supposed to be opposites, right?” Tsukishima traces his thumb around Hinata’s stretched rim, and watches the elder tremble.

Hinata smiles, “Maybe. I like it, though.”

Tsukishima smirks, pulling out his fingers and using his slick hand to wrap around his own cock and pump, the friction awesome, “I mean, I agree. It’s just weird.”

Hinata shrugs, rolling over onto his stomach, and propping up his hips - and _damn,_ talk about the view from the top.

 “If I wanted to date someone like me, I would. But I don’t wanna’, because I like you.”

“You like me?” Tsukishima teases, grinding his cock against Hinata’s ass. Christ, he’s harder than hell. “That’s pretty gay, Shouyou.”

“Oh my gosh, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Tsukishima full on laughs – and he’d never during sex, except with Hinata. It’s like, there’s no barriers here – Hinata knows it too.

So Tsukishima smooths a hand down Hinata’s back. Braces it between his shoulder blades, and works his cock in real slow. Hinata’s voice rips around the room, like revving a chainsaw, and Tsukishima closes his eyes, just to breathe in. He’s  _tight-_

“Goddammit,” Tsukishima cruses, the cool film on his voice finally cracking. “Fuck.”

“Go, go,” Hinata prods, voice suddenly hot, the room swelling. “Kei, Kei.”

“The  _game_ tomorrow,” Tsukishima strains, rocking slowly. “I’m not going to beat your ass now.”

Hinata whines and squirms, needy, like some kind of animal. He rolls his hips back, dips his forehead into the mattress and keens. Tsukishima exhales, bending down to kiss against Hinata’s sweaty neck. “Be good.”

Hinata nods shakily, so Tsukishima pulls back, and rolls his hips back in. It may not be rough, but it’s fluid and smooth, good enough for Tsukishima to know exactly where he’s hitting.

The room swells with heat, the already simmering embers catching fire.

And god, the noises. Lewd and wet, a little sloppy, but  _good._ Hinata gargles into the pillows, moaning loud, then louder, biting his fist when Tsukishima aims so well.

And Tsukishima, in turn, is pushed to his own limit. Ugh, he wants so bad. To grip Hinata by the hair and  _destroy him._ To mark him up and run his nails down every inch of his skin. Instead, Tsukishima licks behind his ear, nipping the skin and wracking Hinata’s body with every steady thrust.

They’re tired still. Tsukishima’s body is worn from practice, and his stomach is already coiling. It’s just,  _agh._ The noises coming out of Hinata’s mouth – they’re so filthy.

“Kei,” Hinata keens, back arching. “Please, tell me, tell me-“

“How good you’re doing?” Tsukishima’s hips roll, “Do you need to know?”

“ _Yes-“_

“You’re beautiful.” Tsukishima tells him, sitting back on his knees to really look. “God, still tight, you know.”

_“Nnn!-“_

“So pink and pretty,” Tsukishima swats his ass, staring where they’re connected, and feeling his own cock throb. “Nobody takes it as good as you can.”

“I only want you,” Hinata breathes, through the air that smells like sex. He turns his head, meeting Tsukishima’s eye. “You, please.”

Ah, Hinata knows how to stroke his ego, really. Tsukishima’s body reacts instinctually, pulling out, flipping Hinata around pressing him into the mattress. 

“Yes!” Hinata beams, hooking his own arms under his knees and practically oozing with happiness. Tsukishima braces his hands on either side of Hinata’s armpits, looks him in the eye, and rocks his hips in hard, balls pressing up against Hinata’s ass in one slide. They both gasp, groan, kiss and make more dumb noises. It’s just hot, hot- their skin, the sweat. It’s a lot at once. Not unfamiliar, just, still good. So, so good-

And together they’re lost. Together, they move. They kiss, until they’re no longer kissing. Just, pressed together, panting down the other’s throat, rubbing off old ink on their arms.

Spit rolls down Tsukishima’s lips. He feels Hinata watching him, and honest-to-god, shivers. There’s just, something about the fire behind his eyes. It burns you, utterly, completely. A billion degrees, like the sun. 

Hinata is mumbling  a mantra of something – it burns into Tsukishima’s skin, thrust for thrust, every grind, every gasp-

Hinata’s hands are everywhere; his shoulders, his back. Nails rake down his spine, and fingers squeeze his biceps. Tsukishima thrusts into the ever encompassing heat, grasping, barely, onto his own sanity. 

_Harder, please, Kei please-_

They wind tighter, like a children's toy. The coil is strong, settling in Tsukishima's navel. Every time Hinata moans, Tsukishima's body throbs. Every time he begs, his gut twists and drops right between his legs. Always, always. Hinata will always be so bright. 

Tsukishima steals a look at his face- and god, his eyes are black. Hinata's hair is sticky, cheeks flushed, but he's  _determined_ , clenching down on Tsukishima's cock and physically ripping a guttural groan out of him. 

Tsukishima is the first to come, by complete surprise. He bites off a moan, body seizing, toes curling. Hinata gasps in delight, nails digging into his scalp.

Tsukishima hangs his head into Hinata’s shoulder, breath covering his neck with every huff. The wave that washes is hard – Tsukishima fills the condom with a sharp gasp, every muscle pulling hard and tense.

“Yesss,” Hinata purrs. “Yes, yes.”

“Shouyou,” Tsukishima shivers. “So good, you’re so-“

Hinata tenses under him, “Ah, I-“

Tsukishima knows he’s close; he can feel it, in every tight muscle Hinata has. Without pulling out, Tsukishima wraps a hand around his cock, feeling him actually throb in his hand. Hinata thrashes – Tsukishima speaks into his ear, and rolls his palm.

His words are filthy, but they do the trick. Hinata’s back arches, mouth opening, and Tsukishima pulls out just in time. He covers Hinata’s mouth with one hand, the other working his cock in steady pumps. God, he’s a work of art. Small, lithe, so sinful and innocent at the same time.

They were supposed to be studying. If anything, napping.

But instead they’re here, panting against cheeks and necks, twisting hands in hair and mumbling words too jumbled to make sense.

“Good, good,” Hinata repeats. “I feel so good. You're so good."

“Good,” Tsukishima repeats back, heaving up to tie off the condom and toss it. “Your chemistry test is tomorrow.”

 “Don’t talk about school while I’m still naked,” Hinata argues sleepily. He  _looks_ like he’s enjoying the afterglow, so, Tsukishima flops down next to him, and rolls onto the only dry spot left on the bed. Hinata climbs on top of him, and Tsukishima hardly complains.

His limbs feel heavy, but it’s a good heavy. Hinata smells really good, and his hair is soft against his oversensitive skin. Tsukishima seeks out his hand, and threads their fingers together idly, “Just going to fail, then?”

“Nuu,” Hinata purrs. “Later. After nap. Study.”

“Right,” Tsukishima hums. His heart is stupidly full. Stupid, dumb. Sex isn’t supposed to be like this. Isn’t supposed to make you so happy.

But Hinata is a cuddly little bean, and Tsukishima is very, very weak.

So, they fall asleep, and tomorrows worries become tomorrow’s problems.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t get it.”

“Hm?” Hinata tips his head.

“You and Tsukki.” Lev gestures with his shoulder, to the tall lamppost giving post-game advice to a first year.

“What’s there not to get?” Hinata bounces on his heels, “He’s cute and I like him.”

“ _Cute?”_ Lev blinks. “I mean, I don’t like guys, but Tsukishima doesn’t seem  _cute.”_

“Then you have awful taste.” Hinata shrugs, “Jus’ sayin’.”

“But you…you guys don’t even have anything in common.”

“He introduced me to lots of new bands.”

“Yeah?”

“And we watch a lot of TV shows together!”

“Is that really something to base a relationship on?”

Hinata opens his mouth to argue, metaphorical feathers ruffling, but Kageyama pipes in with a bite, “I stopped questioning it months ago. You should just give up.”

Lev looks taken back, “Ha? It was just a question.”

“A dumb question. We have the  _best_ relationship.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense! He’s only so tall because of the stick shoved up his ass.”

Alright, so, even Kageyama took a little offense to that one. Hinata pushes up the sleeves that don’t exist, squaring his shoulders, chin up. “I’ll show ya’!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Hinata turns on his heel.

Kageyama sighs, “Dumbass, wait-“

But Hinata is sprinting across the gym, past the underclassmen, and right towards Tsukishima. The latter's eyes widen, mouth opening, before he’s forced to make a quick decision. Hinata jumps, and Tsukishima drops the bag in his arms to catch him.

Lev tips his head, rubbing his neck, eyebrows pushed together in confusion. “Huh.”

Kageyama shrugs, patting his neck with a towel, “Told you. Leave it be.”

Hinata snuggles into Tsukishima’s neck like a puppy, and Tsukishima, amazingly, lets him.

 

* * *

 

“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi grins. “Is that new?”

“Yes, actually.” Tsukishima props the stuffed bear under his arm.

Yamaguchi snickers, “I thought you already had that one.”

“No, stupid. This one has a red bow, obviously.”

“Right, dumb me.” Yamaguchi laughs, “Why does he keep getting you those?”

“I swear to god, he’s never lost at a claw machine.” Tsukishima shifts the teddy bear in his arms. “I can’t really say no to raw skill.”

Yamaguchi full on laughs, bending over, hair falling in his eyes, “Shit, Tsukki. You guys are so lame.”

“Excuse you. I’m not the one that stole Kageyama’s jacket and ma-“

“Ahh!” Yamaguchi stands up, panicking as he swats at Tsukishima’s arm. “Don’t! Don’t say it.”

Tsukishima smirks, tucking the bear farther away from Yamaguchi. The tips of his ears are red, but so are Tsukishima's - but Yamaguchi doesn't notice.  

* * *

 

Things aren’t always so great, you know. Like water and oil, they’ll argue – but they come back together eventually. Hinata is really bad at the silent treatment, and Tsukishima has become pathetically attached to the small, fiery demon in human’s clothing.

They fought the morning of the fall tournament. They made it past the first bracket, but barely.

_When will you actually listen to me?_

_When you start making sense!_

There was yelling. It was dumb. It left Tsukishima feeling icky and gross, until Hinata tugged him aside before the game, standing up on his tiptoes just to press a kiss against Tsukishima’s chin.

_Sorry._

It’s amazing what one word will do.

But words don’t win games.

And they lose.

It’s hard. The game they worked so hard for. The _last_ time they’d stand on this court, with these people.

The ball fell to the floor, almost slowly. It was a dump, of all things. The team was desperate, biting, scraping, pulling for that final point. With the ball that drops, the score ends at 25 to 27, and at last, their highschool volleyball career.

Karasuno is silent, as their opponents cheer. Tsukishima’s own gut twists and churns, heart vaguely aching. He prepared himself for this, really. The idea of failure – _still,_ there was some kind of hope living beneath his skin.

But it hurts. It really does – Tsukishima looks to Hinata. Worries, because what he feels must resonate ten times over within Hinata.

And he’s right. The look on his face is just, _broken._

They shake hands. Tsukishima looks into the eyes of the captain, and sees a sense of pride Tsukishima wishes he could have. Karasuno was looking up to _him._

But they did their best. That’s all they can do.

When they turn to walk away, back, towards the bus. Back, towards home, Tsukishima sees Hinata just…break.

The way his lower lip trembles, and his eyes fog. The way his hands shake and his knees buckle beneath him – Tsukishima is quick to catch him, arm braced around his hip, because _fuck_ the onlookers. Fuck everyone watching. This is their last time here, on this court. He won’t let Hinata leave this way.

Hinata is trembling in his arms, saying nothing, which is scarier than anything he could ever say. Tsukishima pushes back the squeeze in his chest, leaning down, and lifting Hinata without effort. Hinata falls into him, like butter in a pan. Tsukishima balances him on his hip – because god, he’s so small. And he’s shaking. And people are still watching.

Karasuno is watching.

“Hide your face in my shoulder,” Tsukishima tells him. “Don’t let them see you cry.”

There’s a hard sob. Loud, but smothered in Tsukishima’s neck. God, this is the worst – but they stood here. They _stood_ here, and they played, and now they’ll go home, to the real world.

Tsukishima braces his right arm under Hinata’s butt, and feels small arms wrap around his neck. Hinata fits well on his hip, so Tsukishima walks out, head high, his vice captain crying into his neck.

He carries Hinata onto the bus. Rather than disappointed faces, they’re met with stares of adoration – which is almost enough to choke Tsukishima up, to be honest. He takes a seat, shifting Hinata next to him, and finally exhaling.

And with that exhale, goes the world. Goes the stress of school and volleyball, of futures and every worry. Hinata climbs into his lap and sniffles into his hand, and Tsukishima learns to appreciate the moment, here. It hurts and it sucks, but they stood there. They stood and they played. And now, they go home.

“You played amazing,” Tsukishima says, to everyone and no one at once.

And there’s hands, suddenly, patting his head and his shoulder, clapping Hinata on the back, bumping Tsukishima’s hand. Encouragements from the team – which is _so_ messed up, because this should be the other way around. Kageyama collapses into the bus seat. Yamaguchi throws Tsukishima a look that reads _I’m sorry._

They weren’t the best captains, but they were the best captains they _could_ be.

“We stood there,” Hinata says aloud, as he finally wipes away the last of his tears. “We stood there.”

“We did,” Tsukishima says, and kisses him.

 

* * *

 

Spring comes and goes. They apply for different colleges – some the same, with small hopes, but you know how that song and dance goes.

Tsukishima has a vague plan for the future, which is incredibly out of character, but it’s true.

It’s just.

Hinata.

“What if we’re far away from each other?” Hinata asks, from across the booth.

Tsukishima nudges his foot under the table, “Then I’ll find you.”

Hinata laughs, nudging him back, “That was lame.”

Tsukishima shrugs, head in his hand, “Just saying.”

“I don’t want to be apart.” Hinata’s eyebrows furrow, “I don’t want that.”

“Like I do?” Tsukishima lifts his head from his hand, extending his palm. “We’ll figure it out.”

Hinata plays with his fingers, before taking his hand, “Should we take a break?”

A chill runs down Tsukishima’s spine. The idea alone of Hinata dating anyone else – it makes his stomach churn in a way he’s not familiar with. Distaste licks at his throat, making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth.

Hinata laughs, “That looks like a no.”

“You’d be right,” Tsukishima looks away, trying to keep his mouth pressed into a firm line. “Do you want…”

“No.” Hinata interrupts. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth, turning it pretty and pink, “I don’t. I just want to live with you in a small apartment with a dog and like, four houseplants.”

Tsukishima deadpans, “Four? Exactly?”

“I’m willing to bargain for five.”

Tsukishima squeezes his hand, thumb running across the soft skin on Hinata’s knuckles. “I want a Venus flytrap.”

“Deal.” Hinata laughs, using his free hand to sip his drink.

There’s a lot of unanswered questions. A lot of things he’s just not sure about. He likes a plan, a set path, but…

There’s something attractive about just not knowing. About going down a road with no map.

They’ll go to different colleges. They’ll get together on the weekends. They’ll skype study dates and send each other dumb shit in the mail.

And when they’re done? When they’re graduated?

They’ll get that apartment, with the four, _five,_ houseplants, and the dog named Petunia. It’s strange, _they’re_ strange.

Sun and moon, right?

Well, not so much anymore.

They’ve met in the middle. Between the sun and the moon, where the earth sits all pretty and blue.

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://zanimez.tumblr.com/)


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